


And the Shade of a Life Not Lived

by gaerwn



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 11:48:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13213098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaerwn/pseuds/gaerwn
Summary: A response to "...And the Grave of Time"; Eve Baird wonders what she may have been in another life. (Besides dead. She's just not giving that any thought at all.)





	And the Shade of a Life Not Lived

In another life, she once fell for a guy who gave her ten years. In this life, she fell for one who couldn't give her ten minutes. Like an idiot, this was where her thoughts went – but why wouldn't they? Hell, she'd spent that whole time trying to put everything back to rights and now she was wondering if maybe she should have taken a chance with another life entirely. Eve wasn't sure if she should laugh or cry. Alarmingly enough, she was trending toward tears.

 

Colonel Eve Baird didn't _do_ tears, so she laughed instead. It had an edge; there was no humor in it. (There was no humor left in her anyway.) She still wore that goddamn bowling shirt, because if there had been one thing Flynn Carsen had given her, it was the ability to be _silly_ and _fun_ and find joy in the moment and _goddamn it_ had she just been an in-the-moment fun little fling?

 

That wouldn't have been a problem if she hadn't been prepared to give him forever.

 

It all boiled over and Eve, with a strangled little sound in the back of her throat, threw the ring she had clutched in her hand. A split second later, a yelp sounded in the room and Eve looked up to find the absolute last person she wanted to deal with right now. Stone stood at the bottom of the stairs, still clad in that ridiculous beanie – it wasn't that cold, idiot, she wanted to yell at him but that was probably the most uncharitable of uncharitable thoughts she'd ever had – and prodding his cheek with his fingertips. The ring clattered to the floor at his feet.

 

“Nice aim.” It wasn't his typical ribbing; it sounded more like he was trying to find something to say in the face of his Guardian going a bit crazy. “Glad it wasn't the bowling ball.”

 

Eve found herself glancing at the bag she'd set on the desk earlier, but her too-level gaze found it's way back to Stone, who shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. Why'd it have to be him? Of course it was, after she'd decided to figure out which life she'd lived would be a better one. (And, yeah, she realized she was pointedly ignoring that one little thing where she was dead in every other timeline. She was wallowing and wallowing was never logical.)

 

They stared at each other for a little too long.

 

“Guess you're not going bowling?”

 

Eve tried to answer with words. She really did, but they caught in her throat and she was afraid that if she let one out, a million others would follow. It became a growl low in her throat, a burning in her eyes, and all she managed was a low grunt.

 

Stone chucked a thumb over his shoulder. “So what I was doing wasn't that important. I'll just, you know, get on outta here.”

 

Yeah, probably a good idea. Eve would much rather wallow in the darkened Annex, along among all the things that reminded her of _that idiot_ who took her heart and-- No. Not going there, so she made another stupid decision in the line of stupid decisions. “You don't need to.” She wasn't going to ask him to stay. She wasn't a damsel in distress and she never would be.

 

But she'd leave him the opening and hope that maybe he'd read between the lines.

 

He was halfway back up the stairs by the time she spoke. As he turned, his expression turned from faintly curious (because as much as he didn't want to intrude, he was also a gossip, Baird knew from firsthand experience) to genuine concern. With his brow furrowed and soft frown and standing as still and poised as predator focused on prey, he looked at her like his other self had looked at her in that forest, like he was seeing her for the first time again. She broke the gaze and gave serious thought to chucking the bowling ball at his head just for that look. _How dare he_ when her heart was so vulnerable.

 

“Eve?”

 

He was coming down the stairs and she was somewhere between laughing at this whole thing and throwing herself into his arms just because he was there and Flynn was not and her heart was no longer whole. He stopped in front of her, touched her shoulder. “Hey.”

 

She braced herself for the questions.

 

He tapped her shoulder. “You wanna go punch things?”

 

_Bless him._ Eve snorted. It sounded too much like a sob, but she wasn't going to acknowledge that. Not at all. She took a deep breath and stepped away from his touch as she looked up at him; he didn't follow. She'd told him once that she'd seen how he'd grown into his potential, seen what he could become. She hadn't been lying, but she wondered sometimes what they could have become together.

 

Just an idle thought now and again, always overshadowed by what she had with Flynn.

 

And now here they were, Librarian and Guardian and still haunted by the spectre of Flynn Carsen. Not that Stone knew that and Eve wasn't going to tell him where her head was at right now anyway.

 

She shook her head and mustered up a broken little smile for him, because he deserved that at least. She wasn't sure what she did to deserve a friend tonight, but thoughts going wild or not, she couldn't turn him away after she'd obliquely asked him to stay. “Beer?” she said.

 

He really didn't want to spar with her right now. Blood might have been shed.

 

Stone's answering grin was marred by unmitigated concern, but he offered her his arm. “I know a great place. Not far from here?”

 

She slapped his elbow. “Not in this shirt.”

 

Eve was walking away when his voice stopped her. “What we call a beginning is often the end, and to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.”

 

Over her shoulder, she looked at him. Just... looked at him, one corner of her mouth quirking upward and a suspicious gathering of wetness in the corner of her eye. “I'm going to need at least four beers before touching that one.” It wasn't what she wanted to say but it was what she needed to say, to preserve this comfortable status quo.

 

This was the life she chose, in all its heartbreak and deception and tears and three really really _wonderful_ Librarians at her side.

 

His expression fell into that grin that threatened to meld the pieces of her heart back together. “Genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood.”

 

It certainly could.

 

“Beer,” she said. “You're buying.”

 

This was her life. She would live it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I never really meant to start writing again. But then this happened. I also never meant to ship things. But then this also happened.


End file.
